


Gun in your pocket

by WingsandImpalas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anna made me do it, Cold War, Condoms, Crack Treated Seriously, Dark Crack, Enemies to Lovers, Espionage, Hate Sex, If You Squint - Freeform, Interrogator Dean, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Violence, Porn With Plot, Prisoner Castiel, Russian Castiel (Supernatural), Size Queen Dean, Spy Castiel (Supernatural), They're on opposing sides okay, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Topping from the Bottom, castiel has a big dick, maybe? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:40:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22932715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingsandImpalas/pseuds/WingsandImpalas
Summary: "Condoms?" He asks Kevin again because he has to be sure. "They want me to use a condom as a tactic.""A re-rewrapped XL Condom," Kevin admits glumly. He's the best assistant Deans had in years, and he's smarter than half the guys upstairs, it's in moments like this when it really shows. "Our superiors know that you use as little restraints as possible when it comes to your interviewees. They figured if you drop a medium-sized pack on a guy and he opens it to see how large it is he'll be more likely to defect."
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 45
Kudos: 434





	Gun in your pocket

**Author's Note:**

  * For [suckerfordeansfreckles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/suckerfordeansfreckles/gifts).



> Okay, so [I saw this on my Facebook](https://imgur.com/a/HKOfE84.com/) and sent it too [Anna](https://suckerfordeansfreckles.tumblr.com/) with Russian Castiel and American Dean and with our one shared brain cell we both went except Castiel's got a giant dick and so this fic was born. I'm not even sorry. This is the funniest thing I've ever written. 
> 
> Russian translations in the endnotes.

Dean may not love his job as an interrogator but he's good at it. More than once his bosses have called him a chameleon, he can play it all. The dumb American, the sadistic torturer, the good cop, the bad cop and most importantly the Alpha Male Stereotype. For some reason, every Russian guy that they bring into this place treats life like it’s a dick measuring contest. They've got the stone-cold vibe down, glares like steel and either pretend they can't speak English or don't speak at all. The second they enter Dean’s room the contest starts, and Dean is forced to prove time and time again that he's the one with the power here. 

Now, normally Dean enjoys it. With looks like his, Dean grew up being called pretty, delicate or occasionally a fucking fairy, by guys who thought they were the kings of every room they walked into. Those guys often ended up under his boot, even if they did catch Dean making out with some guy down a back alley. It's always been fun to take assholes down a few pegs. Dean enjoys subverting peoples exceptions. He enjoys playing the intimidation game but he's not sure how he feels about this new tactic. 

"Condoms?" He asks Kevin again because he has to be sure. "They want me to use a condom as a tactic."

"A re-rewrapped XL Condom," Kevin admits glumly. He's the best assistant Deans had in years, and he's smarter than half the guys upstairs, it's in moments like this when it really shows. "Our superiors know that you use as little restraints as possible when it comes to your interviewees. They figured if you drop a medium-sized pack on a guy and he opens it to see how large it is he'll be more likely to defect." 

Dean takes a deep breath and pitches the bridge of his nose. "Because he'll think every American has a big dick." Dean summarises extremely worried about what his bosses are smoking. "That has to be the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

Kevin nods mournfully, "It’s what they want to try and since you're the guy who tries new things, they decided to give you the honours. It’s not my fault you don't just hit every guy like Alistair did." 

Dean wrinkles his nose; his mentor had been a true sadist. Who often made Dean help waterboard as many victims as he could. It wasn't a surprise when he killed enough of the Soviets for the government to get antsy. Dean got promoted after four months under Alistair's tutelage. Dean wasn’t a fan of torture so he began to use the knowledge he gained his younger years of being a con artist to play his detainees. Dean has gotten more information out of Soviet spy's by playing mind games than Alistair did in two years of service. Dean just doesn't think this particular mind game is going to work out too well. But it’s not really his job to question orders. 

"Okay well, who's our test dummy?"

Kevin turns back to his desk, pulling out a freshly typed classified file. "Castiel Krushnic, Russian. He was living under the alias of Jimmy Novak up until last week. He was engaged to Senator Adler's daughter before his security team found him going through Adler’s files. He took down six men, killed two, one with a letter opener, before he was taking down by a tranquillizer gun. Because apparently Adler didn't want bullet holes in the home property." 

Dean whistles through his teeth, six is a lot of guys even if they didn't have live rounds. "Kev there is no way a condom is going to intimidate a man like that."

"Yeah well there should have been no way for Fergus Crowley to give up that trading ring, but you got that info and left him crying over his mommy issues, so…” Kevin shrugs as he passes Dean over a condom packet. "I guess we'll see what happens." 

Dean groans, slipping the packet into his sleeve. This ploy is so gonna suck but if anyone can pull it off it's going to be him. He stops to look inside the cell before entering. Examining the simple cuff on Castiel’s ankle chaining him to his bed frame. His cell is small and windowless, with a tiny toilet beside the bed and a chair stuck in the back corner that Dean knows is uncomfortable as fuck. It’s cold as balls in there but Castiel is barely shivering, despite only wearing a thin white T-shirt. He’s lying on the bed, hands crossed at his stomach looking surprisingly peaceful given he's been on his own for two days. Dean made sure nobody talks when serving meals. Solitude, Dean knows, can break a man quicker than violence. 

Dean takes a deep breath, clearing his mind, before unlocking the cell door. Castiel blinks, his cold blue eyes scanning Dean up and down warily. His lip has been split from the fight at Alders. It pairs well with the yellowed bruise on his cheek. Despite all of that, he's the most beautiful man Deans ever seen. 

Dean falters under his gaze, it's been years since Dean's craved the companionship of men. Long before he started working for the government. He can't mess it up now, just because some Russian assholes got the face of an angel. 

"Krushnic," Dean says, sizing him up in return. "I'm here to ask you some questions."

"You want me to defect," Castiel tells him gravely. His voice is a crime, deep and accented. Dean swallows. "The answer is no." 

"So, what you're happy living here for a few years, proposing to American woman but staying here forever is where you draw the line?" Dean asks he's not really sure what angle he's going to play here. Normally the people he questions ignore Dean for hours. It's throwing Dean off his game, getting called out so brazenly. 

"America is quaint," Castiel says, shrugging lazily, "I can see the appeal, but I'd rather not get assassinated by my own people." 

Dean blinks, leaning against the doorframe. "You don't need to defect to talk," Dean says, letting a bit of menace into his voice. He's not a fan of torture but he will do it if he has too. Often the threat of that is enough. Most men in this cell start sweating at just the idea of it. Castiel looks cool as a cucumber, laying there like he's got no fear at all.

"Americans are squeamish," Castiel says obviously not intimidated at all. "Whatever methods you've got I'm sure my country has worse." 

"You don't sound like you're a big fan of the homeland their comrade," Dean says observationally. Castiel tenses, it’s subtle, most untrained men would have missed it but its Deans job to read people. 

He almost calls Castiel out on it but in one breath Castiel steadies himself. He looks at Dean appraisingly, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, and I'm sure you just love America." 

"Well we do have very good pie," Dean says snarky as ever. Castiel is clearly hiding something about his loyalties, and Dean wants to know why. 

"And Russia has very good vodka that doesn't mean it's perfect," Castiel says plainly, almost sounding honest. "And it also doesn't mean I'm going to tell you anything."

Dean shrugs, taking a leisurely step forward into the cell. Kevin says Dean looks like a predator when he does this walk. The one he learned from Alistair. Castiel only blinks, up at him, at least until Dean pulls at his chain. Castiel slides off the bed and falls on the concrete, wincing. Dean springs into action as Castiel tries to sit up, slamming him back against the bed frame. Practically crawling into his lap. 

"Look Krushnic, just cause I'm some all-American pie loving boy. It doesn't mean I won't bring out the pliers and pull your nails out," Dean says, slamming Castiel’s head back against the metal again. "Life can be made a lot easier for you if you just give up right now." 

Castiel blinks at Dean, his vision going from dazed to sniper focused as he looks at Deans jaw. "и тот факт, что у тебя очень красивый рот, не означает, что я передумаю." He says, smiling a little. 

Dean shakes his head, wondering if he's picked that up wrong because surely the Soviet isn't saying Deans got a pretty mouth. He sits back on his heels still hovering over Castiel who straightens suddenly, his eyes wide. Dean starts wondering if that was something he even meant to say out loud. He's never known a Russian to use flirtation as a tactic, that's normally Dean’s thing.

"Sleep on it," Dean bites out, scrabbling to his feet. "Or its pliers in the morning."

Castiel rolls his eyes, smirking up at Dean as he all but flees the room. He almost forgets to drop the condom packet, but he does anyway because his bosses insisted. The second he leaves though Dean can't help but wonder if his prisoner might pick up wrong. He's never known a heterosexual man to complement his mouth before. What are the chances the first guy he tries to intimate with his sexual prowess is queer? He shakes his head and leaves. He'll find out in the morning whether the trick worked at all. 

\--XL--

In the morning Dean arrives at the prison before Kevin does. Normally Dean likes to leave his charges to stew, often not visiting them for days on end but with Castiel? Dean has to know if the condom did anything. Did it intimate the man? Or maybe did it arouse him? Dean has no idea which option would be better. He never planned on seducing a Soviet spy, but what can Dean say. He's always been a fan of spontaneity. His dick might not actually be as large as the condom advertises, but he's big enough. He's had no complaints anyway. Beside it’s not like there's a huge possibility Castiel will want Deans dick. Deans just... optimistic.

So optimistic he grabbed the KY gel from his medical supply. So sue him, Dean would much rather fuck Krushnic into defecting than pull his fingernails off. 

However, when he unlocks the cell door, he realises that getting fucked by the Russian could also have its appeal. 

Castiel is lying on the bed again, except this time he’s fucking naked. He flushes down to his chest when he notices where Dean's eyes are currently locked. Castiel has put on the condom. Castiel has put on the condom and it fits him perfectly. Dean damn near swallows his tongue. 

"It's a bit snug," Castiel comments suddenly, clearly deciding if his dicks out he might as well not be embarrassed about it. And really who could be embarrassed with that thing between their legs? Dean may or may not be having a stroke. 

"It's an XL," Dean says with his downstairs brain.

Castiel tilts his head, "The packet said it was a medium." 

"Intimidation tactic," Dean confesses. Honestly, he can kind of see where his bosses are coming from. He has no idea how the hell he's going to get that thing inside of him. But God is he going to try. 

"That doesn't seem very heterosexual of them."

"Your comment on my mouth wasn't exactly heterosexual either," he says, still looking at Castiel’s fucking dick. Is this how moths feel?

Castiel quirks an eyebrow, "I am not very heterosexual." Castiel says, clearly noticing where Deans mind is going. 

"Thank God because I'm not either," Dean says then climbs onto the fucking bed. 

Castiel has one second to look surprised before Dean kneels over Castiel’s spread legs and swallows him down. "Сладкая божья матерь!" Castiel yells arching into Dean’s mouth, his hand instantly tangling in Deans hair. "This - This is why I like America." He gasps, eyes closing in pleasure. 

Dean pulls of Castiel’s cock, licking at the latex covered tip for a second as he meets the Soviets eyes. "Not many men willing to suck dick in Russia?" 

"Not many are willing to be so bold about it," Castiel says, panting heavily, his hips rising as Dean starts to stroke him off. "American men are also better looking."

"Flatterer," Dean says with a wink before he sucks Castiel back into his mouth again. Dean's not a pro at this, but he enjoys it, which is usually enough to make up for his lack of experience. Dean’s not sure how much experience someone would need to swallow a dick this big so he doesn’t even try. Pulling out all his best tricks around the head off Castiel’s cock while he keeps jerking off what he can't reach. Castiel is gasping above, cursing in Russian as he tries to hold his hips still. Dean honestly appreciates that giving the situation. Normally a guy would probably want to choke their captor. 

"Fuck that’s - fuck - I don't even know your name." Castiel pants, his other hand fisted in his own dark hair. 

Dean seizes the opportunity. "Tell you what," He says, fondling Castiel’s balls. "You make me cum before you do, I’ll tell you my name. But if I make you come first you defect." 

Castiel grits his teeth, tugging harder at his own hair. "That is a dirty, dirty trick." 

Dean shrugs, mouthing again at Castiel’s slit through the condom. Castiel whimpers. "Fine you Ублюдок," Castiel says making Dean chuckle. "But you need to play fair, I need an opportunity to get you off as well." 

Dean licks his lips, already reaching into his back pocket. "Well, you could put that giant thing to good use and fuck me with it." 

Castiel nods, Castiel nods a lot. Dean grins standing up and stripping in a hurry. Watching hungrily, as Castiel grabs the tube and slicks his fingers with the stuff. Dean scrambles to get naked, not really caring if he’s still got his watch and one sock on when he straddles Castiel’s thick waist. Slowly stroking over the bruises on his tan chest. There's Cyrillic tattooed on his left hip. "How the fuck did the Adler’s daughter not notice this?" Deans asks, in awe. 

Castiel shrugs, circling Deans rim with one of his slicked-up fingers. "She was a save herself till marriage type," he says, slowly sinking one finger into Dean. Dean sighs, relaxing around the intrusion, it has been a while since he did this. But it still burns just as good as Dean remembers. Castiel raises a smug eyebrow. "Which is a good thing because I planned on fleeing the country before I ever had sex with a woman."

Dean puffs a laugh that turns into a gasp when Castiel adds a second finger. His dick leaking onto Castiel’s stomach. God Dean forgot how much he loved bottoming. This challenge might be a little harder than he expected. Especially when Castiel changes the angle of his fingers, so he's tagging Dean's prostate. Dean moans brokenly, clinging tightly to Castiel’s shoulders. 

"прекрасный." Castiel comments, leaning forward so he can mouth along Deans chest. Dean moans louder when Castiel catches a nipple between his teeth. 

"Krush - Cas -" Dean gasps trying to get his bearings as he tangles his fingers in Castiel’s dark hair. He’s got a fucking competition to win Godammit. 

Castiel chuckles darkly adding a third finger and spreading Deans rim. "You make wagers like this with all your Soviet captives?" He whispers into Dean’s ear, biting down when's he’s finished. 

Dean swallows a groan, scratching his nails down Castiel’s back to steady himself. "Only the really, really hung ones." He says, like Dean ever done anything this stupid in his entire life. 

Castiel hums under his breath, tempting Dean with a fourth finger as he kisses his neck. "So just me then."

"Shut the fuck up." Dean gasps, pushing hard at Castiel’s chest so he's flattened against the bed. His fingers slipping free being an unfortunate side effect. Dean takes it in his stride, searching for Castiel’s dick so he can position it between his legs. 

"I thought Soviets were supposed to be quiet -“ Dean gasps, sinking down on Castiel’s enormous cock. “Stoic - even." Castiel lets out a very un-stoic moan, gripping Deans hips. Dean grins, at the blissed-out look that crosses Castiel’s face. He may still be able to win this thing, even if it feels like he’s being split in half. 

"I thought everything was supposed to be larger in America," Castiel groans, circling his hips. "Yet I am clearly larger than you." 

"Yeah, Yeah," Dean says, rocking on Castiel’s lap. "You may be bigger than most American guys, but can you fuck me any better that’s the real question?"

Castiel moans, a challenge sparkling to life in his eyes. "ты будешь моей смертью." He says, before planting his feet and thrusting up. 

Dean sinks back down, clenching tightly around the thick length inside him as he starts to ride Castiel’s dick. Panting heavily when Castiel hits the right angle. The bed starts to creak under them, the shitty thing built to make the area as decrepit as possible. Deans not even sure if it will hold out until their finished. It doesn't slow him down in slightest. He's got a bet to win after all. 

Castiel is giving it as good as he's taking it. Slamming up into Dean just right, breathily praising him in Russian as he digs his nails into Deans hips. Dean groans, bending further at the waist so he can use the headboard as leverage, fucking himself harder down on Castiel’s cock. Castiel retaliates by grabbing Deans dick, sweat and precome slicking the way. Dean starts making these fucked out little noises, and he knows he's close, he tries to fight it. He really does. But Castiel twists just right and that's it. Deans coming hard enough his vision whites out. Castiel following him soon after. Moaning loudly in his victory. 

Dean shivers through the aftershocks, panting against Castiel’s neck before he swallows harshly. When he looks up, Castiel is still dazed and still so fucking beautiful. Dean really wants to kiss him. But he can't. Not yet anyway.

"Guess you're not defecting." He says glumly. He wouldn't mind switching from interrogation to being Castiel’s handler. He's so over dick-measuring contests. Nothing is ever going to beat the man panting beneath him.

"I guess not," Castiel says smugly. 

Dean also kind of wants to smack him. Instead, he stands on shaky legs and reaches for his underwear. "Well there's always tomorrow."

Castiel perks up, a genuine smile breaking his face. "Are you saying you will keep doing this until you win." 

Dean shakes his head, hiding his laugh as he shrugs on his shirt. Kevin will be here any fucking minute. "Yeah if you're up for the challenge. I've still got my pliers handy if you change your mind." He says, ignoring the knots in his stomach. He doesn’t think he could hurt Castiel, no matter the stakes. 

"Hmmm,” Castiel says, watching Dean button up his slacks, his gait more bowlegged than usual. "I'm happy with our current arrangement as long as you give me my reward." 

"The names Dean," Dean says getting ready to leave the room. "I’ll see you tomorrow Krushnic."

"Cas!" Castiel yells over the slamming door. Dean looks back in the cell window lingering on Castiel’s exposed and cum painted skin. "I like it when you called me Cas."

Dean grins despite himself. "Okay Cas, I'll see you tomorrow." 

He walks away with a pleased smile on his face. He just hopes Kevin doesn’t ask him about what happened to that condom. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> These probably aren't accurate because I used google translate but I also wrote this between 11 pm and 2 am so I don't really care. 
> 
> "и тот факт, что у тебя очень красивый рот, не означает, что я передумаю." - just because you have a very beautiful mouth does not mean that I will change my mind.  
> "Сладкая божья матерь!" - Sweet mother of God!  
> "Ублюдок," - Bastard  
> "прекрасный." - Beautiful  
> "ты будешь моей смертью." - You'll be the death of me. 
> 
> If you want to reach out to me, see my progress or scream at me about the feelings I gave you, you can find me on [tumblr.](https://wingsandimpalas.tumblr.com/) Thank you for reading, I love all of you! and if you enjoyed this fic then please share the rebloggable link which you can find [here.](https://wingsandimpalas.tumblr.com/post/611207621090885632/rating-explicit-parts-11-words-3288-additional%E2%80%9D%20rel=)


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